


Ten Months

by grace_lou_freebush



Series: Ten Months [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden, Hogwarts Sixth Year, The Room of Hidden Things, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23937691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grace_lou_freebush/pseuds/grace_lou_freebush
Summary: While Dumbledore may have appeared completely busy managing the Order of the Phoenix and hunting down Horcruxes with Harry, he managed to keep a sharp, concerned eye on Draco. When Draco was on the verge of fixing the Vanishing Cabinet before Dumbledore was prepared, the headmaster assigned Hermione a task. She was to go back in time and stall Draco, any means necessary."She was seriously considering doing something categorically insane. She wanted to reveal herself to him.Christmas break was upcoming, and she'd been essentially alone for three months. Knowing the holiday was near made her yearn for companionship. She felt like she knew a side of Draco that he kept hidden away while outside the Room. He was clever and noble and steadfast and scared and handsome and – and she wanted to reveal herself to him."
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Ten Months [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986979
Comments: 38
Kudos: 107
Collections: DFW Birthday GOGO Fest 2020





	Ten Months

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsMast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMast/gifts).



> For: [MrsMast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMast/pseuds/MrsMast). I hope you like it! I never thought I would do a time travel story, so thanks for getting me out of my comfort zone!  
> Promts: fluff; time travel; forbidden  
> WC: 750-2500 (I went over slightly, whoops!)
> 
> Alpha/beta love to [Aneiria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aneiria/pseuds/Aneiria)! Thanks for taking pity on me and reviewing this fic despite all my complaints and procrastination! All remaining errors are my own.
> 
> And thank you to the admins of Dramione Fanfiction Writers for hosting this fest! Once I figured out my prompts, I had a blast with this piece!
> 
> Just like all the other fanfics on this site, I don't own the characters or original content created by JKR, and I'm not making any money from my works here.

Hermione had been living in The Room of Hidden Things for a total of three weeks now. 

Back in third year, she'd never gone back in time so long. She typically only sent herself back an hour or two at a time to catch up on her classes – never more than a full day, and certainly never months. It was odd to think of herself running around on the other side of the wall: rushing to class or the library, patrolling her Prefect's rounds, trailing after Harry while trying to convince him that Malfoy was _not_ a Death Eater and to _please_ focus on closing his mind to Voldemort instead of tracking down an innocent, fellow student.

Oh, how wrong she'd been!

But she couldn't leave her post to inform her best friend that, for once, she'd been mistaken. Harry would probably let it go to his head, anyway, and he _did_ have more pertinent things to focus on.

That's why Dumbledore had approached Hermione with the task. She had experience with time travel, knew all the rules, and was not shackled with too many responsibilities already.

So here she was, three weeks into staking out Malfoy and the Vanishing Cabinet Fred and George had stuffed Montague into the previous school year. She was meant to stall (but not completely hinder) Malfoy's progress on fixing it, on Dumbledore's orders, though he'd not deigned to tell her why the task was so important.

The cabinet itself was plain and tall and made of black wood with double doors. Overall, it appeared quite ordinary to Hermione, which, she supposed, was the point if it had been created for secret escapes.

The cabinet was surprisingly impervious to spellwork.

Hermione had observed Malfoy tinkering with it, covertly tucked behind the towering walls of lost and broken items out of sight, for a week before approaching the magical piece of furniture herself. The back had been mangled and splintered, and simple mending charms had not been sufficient to repair the damage. She'd watched him painstakingly adjust the broken boards with nimble fingers until they were realigned perfectly. Then he charmed them smooth and straight and whole.

When he left that night, Hermione snuck silently up to the massive cabinet. While her normal timeline self was still practicing non-verbal spells, she had become quite adept at them. Even still, she had to firmly say the counter spells out loud several times before the faint line of a fracture marred Malfoy's hours of work.

For the next three days, Malfoy would come back, assess the changes, and refix them before moving on to another portion of the damaged cabinet. And for the next three days, after he left, Hermione would slink over and undo his progress.

Then, he brought a stack of books with him. After swiftly repairing the cracks, he sat down and read. And he read and read. He read for so long that Hermione itched to know what information the books contained. What had captured his attention and enthralled him so much that he hardly moved, except to turn the pages? 

After nearing what Hermione estimated to be twelve hours, she saw him check his watch, scrub his eyes vigorously, tuck a scrap of paper into the book to mark his page, gather his book bag, and leave. Finally, she had her chance to snoop on his reading material.

Runes.

He didn't take Ancient Runes like Hermione, yet he crammed three year's worth of information into about a week's worth of studying. After he systematically worked his way through the pile of tomes, he drew protection runes over the fixed portions of his cabinet, rendering Hermione's counter charms useless.

That was frustrating. Harry and Ron would have never thought to take up a defensive manoeuvre – especially one they would have to research at length to accomplish – but, then, she had always known the Slytherin boy to be clever and shrewd, even if she'd never had cause to appreciate it before. With a huff, she realized she would need to reexamine her own strategy.

***

Hermione had been living in The Room of Hidden Things for a total of three months now.

Three months was a long time to not directly interact with anyone except the odd house elf who brought her food at regular intervals. But she'd learned a lot about Malfoy during that time.

Single-minded, he focused intently on the puzzle before him. He brought neither homework nor extracurricular activities with him, but weekly, he tucked a letter from home into the drawer of a nearby, upturned chest of drawers. Even watching him closely to detect his locking spell, it had taken her hours to retrieve them – and longer still to decide to invade his privacy by reading them. Occasionally, he huddled over a Galleon, suspiciously similar to the Dumbledore's Army coins she'd created the previous year. _That_ never left his hand or his pocket, so she'd no idea who he might be communicating with.

Malfoy was thorough, clever, and frequently worked outside the box. And he was stressed.

Dark circles framed his eyes. He'd work for hours without pause for the loo or food. Then he'd leave only just in time to scramble off to class without any sleep, barely sending a cursory dewrinkling charm over his crumpled robes for appearance's sake.

One day in what Hermione assumed to be mid-October, Malfoy stumbled into The Room of Hidden Things a wreck. Tripping over his feet and robes, blindly barreling through the haphazard walkways, he came crashing to his knees before the useless cabinet. Heaving great gulps of air, he was clearly staving off tears.

With a rasping voice, he assured himself, "She's going to be okay. It didn't kill her. She's going to live."

Eyes wide and rooted to the spot, Hermione watched him like a Quidditch accident in motion, one thought permeating her shock.

_Katie Bell_.

After an indeterminate period of time, he wiped his nose, blinked, and viciously attacked the mystery of the broken cabinet: determined, tenacious, persistent. He made more headway during that night than in the whole previous month. And Hermione found herself, for the first time, hesitant to undo his progress when he finally packed up in the morning. She'd read the letters from his mother and had pieced together why this task had him so desperate.

That had been a month and a half before. Now, she was seriously considering doing something categorically insane. She wanted to reveal herself to him.

Christmas break was upcoming, and she'd been essentially alone for three months. Knowing the holiday was near made her yearn for companionship. She felt like she knew a side of Draco that he kept hidden away while outside the Room. He was clever and noble and steadfast and scared and handsome and – and she wanted to reveal herself to him.

***

Hermione had come up with no good plans, so she finally decided to wing it. She waited for Malfoy, leaned up against the cabinet, figuring that surprising him while he was focused and working was likely to get her hexed. He was predictable in his schedule and prompt. She'd barely loitered for ten minutes before he rounded the corner of a heaped pile of rubbish.

"Salazar's— You can't be in here!" He panicked, startled when he caught sight of her, but didn't lash out. Things were already going smoother than she'd expected – he hadn't drawn a wand or even slurred at her.

"I know what you're doing. And why you're doing it. This is a Vanishing Cabinet. And you're fixing it because your mother's life is in danger."

Completely flummoxed, he gaped at her for several moments. His jaw even hung open. Hermione broke the silence first.

"I recall you being more vocal. It has been several months since I've been in class with you, but I remember you are usually quite verbose."

A quizzical look set upon his brow. "We were in class three days ago. And I saw you board the train with Potter this morning."

"Well, yes, you're right about that. I suppose there's no way around it now I've shown myself to you... I am from the future. Four months from now, to be exact." She pulled the time turner Dumbledore had never returned to the Ministry from the collar of her robes. "So once I return from holiday in January, I'll have had no idea we even spoke because I haven't been here yet."

Gobsmacked, Malfoy stared, bewildered, at her. She could practically see his mind turn over her quick words until the moment they untangled themselves and he comprehended the confusing mess of time. He straightened and lifted his chin regally.

"Why are you here? To stop me? I won't let you!"

Defensive was better than offensive, Hermione decided.

"Well, no. I'm not meant to stop you if you insist on finishing your task. I do think you should stop, though. I know it seems like you don't have a choice, but there's _always_ a choice, you know. There's people who can help. They can get your mother out and make sure your father is safe. Vol—You Know Who won't be able to hurt you, I promise."

He glared at her, but she kept her countenance open and honest. Behind the firm glower, she knew he didn't want to be doing Voldemort's bidding. 

***

Over the weeks, Hermione became Draco's confidante. All his friends were at home while he toiled endlessly at an impossible job. He missed his mother – as well as his father, though Hermione knew he kept mum on that subject in respect to her – and feared he'd never get the chance to see her again. Those conversations always ended in a stalemate: Hermione urging him to go to Dumbledore while Draco railed against what that defection would mean for his family.

They talked about more than the war, though, every chance they could. Hermione asked how he liked the Runes books he'd long since returned to the library. They debated disputable points of Alchemy and human Transfiguration. Draco admitted that he almost chose to sit by her in Potions before he remembered how disastrous that would have proved to be.

Hermione distracted him and didn't have to feel bad about needing to offset his work when he left in the mornings. They'd sit close together and while away the nights in good company.

One day Draco stormed up to her, fuming.

"I poisoned Weasley. Why didn't you stop me?"

"Well, I knew it happened, so it had to happen. Besides, he survives." She turned her head and sniffed. "He deserved a little scare anyway."

"I knew you two were in a tiff. It doesn't have anything to do with that Brown twat, does it? Because it's not your fault Weasley's a blind idiot."

Hermione stiffened. They'd successfully avoided all talk of their respective friends until this point, gladly circumventing the hippogriff in the room; neither wanted to acknowledge the forbiddenness of their relationship. Additionally, she'd had months now to stew over Ronald's behavior towards her, and while she was no longer jealous, she didn't feel very forgiving.

"He can do as he pleases. I don't care anymore; he can just be such a-a-a an arse! I'm sure I'll get over it eventually."

The words had hardly left her mouth when she found herself swept up in a bruising kiss. It took her all of one second to throw her hands into Draco's hair and return the desperate scramble of lips, teeth, and tongue.

***

Hermione had been living in the Room of Hidden Things for a total of eight months now.

It was the last week of April. She could admit to herself that she was in love with Draco Malfoy.

Her time in the past was up. She had to go back to classes and Prefect's rounds and wrangling Harry into getting Slughorn's memory for Dumbledore like nothing had changed – like she hadn't changed.

***

Hermione had departed The Room of Hidden Things for a total of two weeks now. 

She missed Draco, however she must not have missed him as much as he missed her. After two weeks of pretending not to care about each other, he wound up in the hospital wing, nearly dead from that stupid Prince's curse and by her best friend's wand. He’d been seeking solace in _Moaning Myrtle_ , of all beings.

Hermione's stomach writhed into knots when Harry confessed, and she picked a fight with both him and Ginny to punish herself.

Once Draco had healed enough to be released back to his normal schedule, Hermione spent her Saturdays holed up in The Room of Hidden Things with Draco. Harry wouldn't notice her absence while trapped in his weekly detention with Professor Snape. She spent those rendezvous actually helping him work on the cabinet, among other, more pleasant, physical activities.

He had scarred, barely from quickly administered dittany, but she didn't coo over the pearly lines criss-crossing his muscled chest like he complained Parkinson had. No, she scowled at them righteously and ran her hands firmly over his flesh, imagining it smooth and unmarred. She remembered the cuts he'd gotten from Buckbeak back in third year – how long ago that felt! His reaction now was a complete volte-face from that day. 

A sort of veneration for Harry had sprouted in him after that near fatal duel. Draco said he could respect any wizard that could duel like that, and as he'd been ready to use an Unforgivable, he couldn't fault Harry for reaching for Dark magic.

Lying there, cuddled together with her head tucked into the crook of his shoulder, she couldn't say she agreed with him.

***

Hermione had departed The Room of Hidden Things for a total of two months now.

She was perusing the library's collection of old _Daily Prophets_ for more information on Eileen Prince when Draco grabbed her suddenly. 

Hermione wheeled on him, about to whisper-shout at him for breaking their cover in public – even if the editorial section was vacant aside from her at this hour and so near exams – when she caught a glimpse of his expression. The light in his mercurial eyes was excited, but the tightness at their edges and the grim set of his mouth spoke of apprehension. And fear.

"What? What is it? Is everything – Is your mum okay?"

"I fixed it."

And suddenly, she understood the cocktail of mixed emotions swirling in his eyes. The only response she could give was a gasp.

"You need to leave. Now."

"What? No! I-I can't leave! Where would I go? Exams are—"

He silenced her with a hard, frantic kiss, the emotion from his eyes transferring into his mouth and pouring into her.

"Please. I need you to leave. I love you. You can't be here."

His lips brushed hers as he confessed his soul to her. His eyes bounced between hers, imploring.

"No! It's not too late! Dumbledore can still help! The Order—"

Pulling a Galleon – _the_ Galleon – from his pocket and sparing it a miniscule glance, "I have to go now. Please leave. I love you."

And then he was gone.

***

Hermione had gone to live in The Room of Hidden Things a total of ten months ago.

And then Dumbledore was dead, and Snape was a traitor, and Draco was gone.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> I worked to keep this fic within the canon of The Half-Blood Prince, and I envision the Deathly Hallows also being unaltered by the events I depicted here. The ending is purposefully vague, but I might write a couple drabbles within this universe if there's any interest, so let me know what you thought! I love both kudos and comments!


End file.
